The Hardest Battle
by standwithyou
Summary: A slight change of plans.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I had so many feels while writing this. Knockout is my favorite episode and this idea just wouldn't stop running through my mind. Dedicated to Nina, as usual. **

**Disclaimer: These characters are not mine. Andrew Marlowe does an amazing job with them. **

**. . . **

"Richard Castle has to be removed from the situation. We don't have a choice."

The young man stares wide-eyed at Senator Bracken. He hasn't been in this business for very long and he is still getting accustomed to the harsh reality of his current occupation.

He clears his throat, "But I thought we were going after Detective Beckett."

Bracken looks slightly aggravated to have this young, inexperienced boy on his service, but he is at a loss for the time being. If he went around hiring men left and right, too many people would know. Too many people who would end up in the ground.

The senator stands and moves to the window. "Coonan is dead. Lockwood is dead. Montgomery is dead. Countless attempts to get Kate Beckett out of the way: all foiled by that writer. He is the only reason she got out of the hangar that night. He may be a small player in all of this, but he has more influence that I originally thought. I didn't realize his presence would become so problematic. Once he is gone, we'll have a clear shot at Beckett."

"Can't we just go straight for the detective at the funeral? Like we planned?"

This kid just doesn't understand does he? Bracken turns and moves towards the younger man. "This way may be bloodier, but it will be easier for us in the long run. Enough bodies have piled up. What's one more? We do it my way."

"The plan-the details have already been worked out. The funeral is today, you can't just-,"

"I can and I will," Bracken growls, "You will obey my orders."

The henchman lowers his eyes in submission and says, "Yes, Sir."

Bracken grins, "Call Maddox."

. . .

The precinct is quiet when Castle steps out of the elevator. The bullpen is emptier than he's ever seen it. It vaguely registers that Ryan and Esposito are in one of the side hallways talking solemnly to some uniforms, but his eyes dart across the room in their pursuit of his detective.

_She isn't _your _detective, Rick; _the regretful voice in his head reminds him.

It feels like she is his though, not in an overly possessive way, just in a way that he wants to be hers, too. It felt like they belonged to each other that night in the hangar. The limp press of her body against his as he leans her on the car, the vibration of her cries spilling into his hand and the look in her eyes like every shred of hope she's ever had has been ripped apart.

He walks over to Kate's desk and sits down in his chair. His wandering blue eyes settle on Montgomery's office…or what used to be Montgomery's office. Castle rubs a hand over his face and sighs. He cannot even imagine having another captain. Roy Montgomery is his captain. Rick's sadness almost makes him feel guilty, because when he remembers how Kate must feel right now; having the man who trained her to bring justice to others when all along he could have brought justice to her.

The image of Roy before him with a gun in his hand, the sounds of a car filled with people who want to kill the women he lov-cares about very much speeding towards them and the Captain's voice yelling, "_CASTLE! Get her out of here now!"_ comes to the front of his mind without his permission. Rick can still see the look in his eyes, the way Kate begged him not to-

"Hey, Castle."

Her soft voice yanks his out of the memory and he wants to thank her for it, but it's hard to find the right words.

"Hey," he replies, noticing the way she is pulling on her the white gloves that go with her uniform. The stark white fabric slides over her ivory hands, the hands that had brushed across his face as she struggled against the urge to fall apart.

"How are you holding up?" He's not just asking about Montgomery's death. He is also inquiring about the secret that is being kept between only four people, including him. He sometimes doesn't know how she isn't furious with Roy. She could be mad at him, but she is making a conscious decision not to be. He supposes that the anger dissolved when she discovered that Roy was going to sacrifice himself to save her, leaving her with only gratitude and remembrance.

Instead of the usual avoidance, she tilts her head and says, "As well as you'd expect."

The corners of his mouth tilt upward in a smile that he hopes is comforting. She tries to smile back, but she just glances down at the floor for a moment before lifting her gaze to his. It's easier to read her when her defenses are down, but it unnerves him how he can sense exactly what she's trying to tell him, that she's sad and completely sorry and breaking on the inside.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Here you go," he says, breaking the eye contact to hand her the cup of coffee that he's been cradling in his palm.

She takes it and gulps the beverage greedily. "Thank you," she murmurs. She looks lost, like she doesn't remember that you have to put one foot in front of the other in order to walk.

He stands. If nothing else, he will always be here to show her the way when she needs him to. "Are you ready?" He asks.

Beckett takes a shuttering deep breath, "As I'll ever be."

. . .

Kate is about to go up to the podium to give her speech, a paragraph that she composed carefully with everything Roy Montgomery taught her in mind, when Ryan and Esposito catch her attention and smile and nod encouragingly. She smiles at them and turns to Castle. He can sense her nervousness, so he reaches over and squeezes her hand compassionately.

"You'll be great," he whispers.

Even though she knows what the answer is going to be, a timid look pools in her eyes when she asks, "Will you stand with me?"

The two lock eyes for a second, then they rise and he follows her to the podium.

Castle stands a few feet from her and watches as her face and body shift, so that the entire crowd can see the strength she has within her, the strength that he admires so much.

"Roy Montgomery taught me what it meant to be a cop. He taught me that we are bound by our choices, but we are more than our mistakes." Beckett cannot help but notice that Evelyn Montgomery and her daughters are sobbing and for a second the memories of her mother's funeral come rushing back to her, but she surpasses them and continues, "Captain Montgomery once said to me that for us there is no victory; there are only battles. And in the end the best you can hope for is to find a place to make your stand. And if you're very lucky, you will find someone willing to stand with you."

Kate glances over at Rick for a fleeting moment, and he can hear his heart pounding in his ears, because she's looking at him like he's more than her partner.

The Detective turns back to the crowd, "Our Captain would want us to carry on the fight. He would want us to…" A flash of light in the distance bounces off of her iris and she blinks rapidly, and then squints, completely horrified, because she recognizes that glint.

Oh, God. It's aimed at Castle. She has to get him-

A shot rings out through the spring air.

"_RICK_!"

She launches herself at him and they fall onto a bed of soft green grass while screams pierce through the once quiet morning. Maybe he's okay, maybe he didn't get shot, she thinks frantically as she lifts herself off of him slightly to assess the damage. Her eyes fill with fright and her heart deflates when she sees the blood spilling from his chest. Her eyes dart to his face. His eyes are like an ocean of fear; he's so scared that he almost looks like a terrified little boy.

Castle tries to move, but he gasps in pain and opens his mouth like he wants to say something. Beckett moves her hands to his chest and puts pressure on the wound. The glistening red liquid seeps into her hands.

"Shh, Castle, no. Stay with me, Rick. Please," she begs, "you have to stay awake. You have to stay with me."

Tears are streaming down from his eyes, so she moves a hand to cradle the back of his head and shifts so that her face is closer to his.

"Kate-," he wheezes. She can see the blood surging into the back of his mouth.

He can't die, not now. Their story is not over, hell, it's barely started. He _cannot_ die today. She hasn't told him how much he means to her yet, if he is going to be stolen from her, he needs to know.

Kate calls his name as she chokes on a sob and he immediately focuses on her. His gaze gives her the courage.

"I love you, Rick. I love you, okay? You need to stay with me so that I can love you."

A lump has formed in her throat and tears spill from her eyes as she the words flow from her mouth. The Detective can't tell if her mind is playing tricks on her or if it is actually happening, but she can almost see the ghost of a smile on his mouth.

Castle closes his eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: The response to the first chapter was wonderful! Thank you to everyone! *Insert big, awesome Castle Fandom hug here*. Review and make me smile, please. **

**. . .**

The ambulance flies through traffic, weaving through the intertwined streets of New York City, but she wants it to move faster.

All she can do is watch the scene play out before her; the frenzied beeping of the heart rate monitor, Lanie's voice as she barks orders to the less experienced EMTs and the complete and utter lack of noise from the usually annoyingly talkative writer. His face is pale; a sickly grayish blue color. An oxygen mask covers most of his face and she can imagine him sitting up and throwing it off of his face with an inherited dramatic flair and saying, "Just kidding!" and she would yell at him, then wrap him in her arms and threaten him so that he would never leave her again.

Beckett is yanked from her reverie by the sound of loud, frenzied beeping coming from the monitor, followed by a desolate, continuous whine.

_Oh-_

He's flat lining.

All of the air in her lungs vanishes and adrenaline burns a jagged trail through her veins. Someone has to do something; someone has to do _something_-because she can't do anything.

"Lanie-," she cries, "help him, _please_!"

Lanie doesn't even glance at Beckett; she just entwines her hands together starts chest compressions. "Come on, Castle," Lanie mumbles, eyeing the heart monitor.

Kate runs a bloody hand through her hair before she pulls it back and glares at the fluid. Beckett slides forward, maneuvering around the medical team until she finds Rick's hand and grasps it firmly, like it could anchor him here. As the blood dripping from his chest onto the floor slides around her shoes, Kate closes her eyes and begs to anyone that's listening to save the man she loves.

. . .

When they finally, _finally_, get to the hospital, she follows the gurney until it disappears through the doors that lead to the operating room. She stares after him for a moment before hears a familiar voice call, "Lanie, how is he?"

Beckett turns to see Ryan and Esposito barreling towards them. Javier goes to his girlfriend and embraces her.

"Beckett?" Kate raises her head to look at the Irish detective. His voice is laced with concern.

"I'm fine," she says flatly, "where's the sniper?" The question surges up her throat with an anger she didn't expect.

Ryan and Esposito share a brief look.

"In the wind," Esposito replies firmly.

"What?!" She hisses.

"We sent out a team to canvas the cemetery and we're pulling surveillance footage from all the security cameras from the area," Ryan says.

"If this guy is smart enough to escape unscathed from a funeral full of cops then he's smart enough not to get caught on camera," Kate answers loudly.

Esposito walks over to the brunette detective and grabs her by the shoulders, "You can't think like that. We'll get this son of a bitch, but you cannot think about what we don't have." Beckett's mouth forms a tight line and glares at him until he takes a step back. She doesn't need this right now. What she needs is something that's going to tell her who shot her partner. Closing her eyes, she takes a few deep breaths and when she opens them again, she sees her father. Martha and Alexis are trailing behind him.

_Oh. _

Her dad moves to her quickly and wraps her in his arms, "Katie…"

"I'm okay, Dad." She wishes she wasn't. She wishes she had been quick enough, so that it could be her on the operating table. She would trade places with him in a heartbeat. But, really, did anyone have to have a bullet in their heart? Why can't everyone be safe?

Alexis' teary voice tears through the hallway, "Where's my dad?"

Beckett pulls back from her father to find Alexis and Martha staring at her expectantly. Kate barely knows how to calm herself down, how is she suppose to comfort these women who love him, too? Esposito notices Beckett's hesitance and says, "He's in surgery. We don't know anything yet."

Alexis turns into the circle of her grandmothers arms. Her body shakes as she cries silently. Martha's face is stained with tears as well.

The group migrates to a hallway lined with chairs and they all sit down. The only noises are Ryan and Esposito's phones chiming reminding them about their lack of information, the buzz of the hospital and the sound of Kate pacing up and down the hall.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom," Alexis says to her grandmother, wiping weakly at the layer of grime that the tears left behind.

Martha rubs the young woman's back and nods. "Alright, sweetheart."

When the younger redhead is out of sight, Martha looks up at Beckett. The woman seems to be completely oblivious to her surroundings. She's been walking back and forth through for at least an hour, wearing the same expression; a mixture of fear and desolation.

Finally, the actress breaks the silence. "Kate, darling, sit down. Pacing a hole through the floor is not going to help Richard," she says softly.

Beckett's chest constricts at the mention of his name because she can remember the way he can enter a room, smiling brightly, his eyes alight, the way his says '_Hi, I'm Richard Castle'_ with confidence emanating from every pore in his body-

It's too much.

Martha is looking at her expectantly, so she sits down next to her.

"I don't know what to say."

The detective turns to Martha, her brow furrowed slightly in a silent question. The older woman inclines her head toward the space her granddaughter had occupied minutes ago.

"I can't tell her that everything is going to be okay, that she's going to see her father again because, well, I don't know the answer. I just don't know," the actress finishes with a flourish of the hand that lacks its usual vitality, her voice breaking and a fresh wave of tears shimmering in her blue eyes.

Both of them are at a loss for words, so the two women envelope each other in a hug; and it feels so motherly, something that Beckett hasn't been connected with in such a long time, that a tear she cannot hold back slips from her green iris. Castle has always been the best with words, anyway.

. . .

Sometime later- an hour, maybe two; she hasn't been counting- a young, blonde woman in scrubs walks around the corner. The first couple of times this happened, the entire team jumped out of their seats, eyes wide and hoping that there would be some news. The employee would usually be looking for another family or just walking by and the anxiety just continued to increase, so it's nothing unusual when the woman nears them.

"Family of Richard Castle?"

His family, from the precinct and from home, surrounds the doctor.

"How is he?" Alexis demands, and the blonde woman finds seven pairs of eyes staring back at her, all of them radiating the same question.

"Mr. Castle is still in surgery. Dr. Kovacks is still trying to remove the bullet; it grazed his lung and lodged itself in his heart. It's a very complex surgery. Mr. Castle has lost a lot of blood. He's required multiple transfusions."

Martha gasps, struggling to take in all of the information. "Oh, God, is he going to be alright?"

The doctor's face is masked with a well constructed expression of pity and apprehension. "It's too soon to tell. If he survives the surgery he will most likely live. The operation will take another couple of hours at most. Maybe home of you should head home and-,"

"Not a chance in hell," Esposito says, moving back defiantly to sit in his chair.

The woman simply nods, promising that there will be another update soon and leaves. As everyone else returns to their seats, Beckett remains standing. She is so trapped in the thought that he is still alive that she doesn't notice that her hands are shaking.

. . .

"I need coffee. Does anyone want anything?"

A chorus of 'no, thank you' spills from everyone's lips, so Kate begins her search for the cafeteria. Despite the alarming amount of signs telling her where it is, it feels like she's wandering in circles. She cannot help but think that if Castle were with her now he would make a game out of this-a mix between a scavenger hunt and something completely his own. It makes her smile.

Her mind wandering, she can't help but think that this feeling of confusion and loss of direction will linger if he doesn't make it. What if he doesn't _make it_?

Trying to remember the doctor's words, she reminds herself that there is a chance. She repeats the words in her mind like a prayer: there is a chance. They have a chance.

After eventually coming to her destination and getting a much needed cup of coffee, Kate heads toward the elevators.

"Kate?"

She turns, and Josh Davidson can tell by the diminished look in her eyes that something is wrong.

"Kate, what's wrong?" He comes toward her, his attractive features laced with concern.

Oh, right, she forgot that he works at this hospital. "Josh, I…"

He rests his hands on her shoulders and she tries not to get irritated by the way he examines her like she's a patient. He uses his hand to cradle her chin, tilting her head towards him.

"Is that…blood in your hair? And on your hands?"

She slips out of his grasp and breathes around the heavy sadness wrapped around her ribcage. She unconsciously raises a hand to touch her hair, but she sees the red stains on her hands and folds her arms across her chest.

"Yeah…Castle, he, uh…" she doesn't want to say it out loud, because that makes it real. It means that he actually might die today. "Castle got shot today. At Montgomery's funeral," she rasps. The feeling of Josh's arms around her startles her. Constrains her. She hates it.

"I'm sorry, Kate. I know he means a lot to you." She can hear the disappointment in Josh's voice, and she can't tell if it's because Rick got shot or because Castle means so much to her.

She pulls away from him and before her brain has even processed the words, they're out of her mouth, "We're done, Josh."

The doctor looks taken aback, "Kate, you're going through a hard time. We can talk about this later, but right now I think-,"

"Stop," she interrupts sternly, "I know what I'm doing. I'm done. I can't do this anymore."

Josh opens his mouth like he isn't done talking, but she is, so Beckett turns around and walks away. She wishes that it didn't have to happen this way, but she knows who she wants now. It had to be done.

. . .

After a trip to the bathroom to scrub away his blood from her hands and attempt to scrape it from her hair, Kate returns to the hallway where her friends are waiting.

She sits down and places her elbows on her knees, then rests her head in her hands. She's so tired. Montgomery is dead.

_Dead._

The thought hasn't really sunk in yet, not even after the funeral. It is going to be awful walking into the precinct and not seeing him working diligently at his desk.

Rick could be dead soon, too.

Forcing her fatal thoughts as far back into her mind as she can, Kate closes her eyes and lets everything except the pounding of her heart melt away.

. . .

"_His blood pressure is dropping! We need to recover the bullet."_

"_I know, I know. There's so much blood-sent an intern down to the blood bank."_

"_Doctor, I think I see the bullet. I might be able to-,"_

"_He's going into V-fib! Get the defibrillator-,"_

"_Oh, God, there's so much blood, we need more suction."_

"_Everybody, just stop what you're doing…"_

. . .

"Are you here for Mr. Castle?"

Her head snaps up and there is a tall man with a strong jaw, about her father's age standing in the middle of the hall carrying a chart in his hand.

"Yes, yes, what's going on?" She asks, ignoring the desperation in her voice.

"Well, the surgery was difficult. His heart stopped twice. He's a very lucky man. He's going to need a lot of physical therapy, but he pulled through."

Exclamations of happiness echo around her, like a collective sigh of relief. A breath is finally released, and tears of joy spill from her eyes freely.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you for the lovely response to this story! I am not sure that I'm responding to reviews correctly, so a huge thank you to anyone who reviews follows or favorites. Love you guys! I actually went back and watched Rise and the doctor who performs surgery on Kate is named Dr. Kovacks. I don't know the exact spelling so this is my guess. Who says I don't do my research?**

**. . .**

"When do we get to see him?" Alexis says, her face split into a joyous grin.

"He won't wake up for another couple of hours, but you can stay in his room with him until he does," the doctor says, indicating the two redheads. "Once Mr. Castle gets situated in his room I'll have some nurses bring you back."

Martha and Alexis thank him profusely and shake his hand before embracing each other tightly. The doctor smiles at the two women. He then turns to the rest of the people waiting in the hallway.

"Are any of you directly related to the patient?"

There is a brief silence.

"No," Beckett says despondently, her jaw clenched with slight irritation. She knew that none of them were going to be able to stay.

"Alright," the man's tone is much less friendly than it was when he had been talking to Martha and Alexis, "Mr. Castle needs his rest. Since none of you are blood related, you're all going to have to visit on your own time during visiting hours when the patient is awake. I suggest you all go home and get some rest."

Kate wants to scream at him. Everyone here cares about Rick, and she just wants to see him, ensure that his heart is really beating. She opens her mouth to defy the doctor, tell him that he can shove hospital policy up his ass, because she _needs_ to see her partner, but the part of her that is still rational forces the words down.

As Dr. Kovacks strides away, Jim moves over to his daughter and wraps a strong hand around her elbow.

"Call me if you need anything, Katie," he murmurs gently. She nods and he presses a kiss to her forehead before gathering his jacket and heading for the elevator.

The brunette detective sways unsurely on her feet for a moment. She doesn't want to go home; she doesn't want to be alone. If she goes home she is going to have to confront the fears that even though the doctor said it's going to be okay, Rick might die any minute that she is away from him, leaving her with an ocean of memories and years of lost time. Ryan and Esposito shift to stand in front of her, small, helpful smiles on their faces.

Ryan begins, "We were thinking-,"

"Maybe we should go to the precinct. See if any evidence or witnesses have turned up."

Beckett looks at both of them, silently thanking them for their support, but she doesn't' know if she can handle going to the precinct and facing all of the possible dead ends and the empty office of their captain.

But it's better that being alone.

"Let's go," she says firmly.

The three detectives and the medical examiner say their goodbyes to Castle's mother and daughter. Ryan, Esposito and Lanie start making their way to the exit, but Beckett drags behind slightly, reluctant to leave the building when she knows that Castle is in pain somewhere.

"Kate," Martha says.

The cop turns, concerned, and walks back to the waiting area. "Yes, Martha? Do you need anything?"

Martha just smiles and then wraps her arms around Beckett tightly, then pulls back to look into the younger woman's eyes. "I'll call as soon as he wakes up, darling."

Kate smiles, elation shining in her eyes. "Thank you, Martha."

. . .

Ryan offers to take Lanie home. Usually, Javier would be the one to go with her, but Lanie knows as well as anyone that is anyone knows what to say to Kate right now, it's Esposito.

Esposito drops a fleeting kiss to Lanie's cheek, and then walks to his car with Beckett. Once the both of them get situated, Esposito starts the car and heads for the precinct. She's quiet. He expects as much, but it's still unnerving. It's a significant difference compared to the fiery, kick-ass detective he is accustomed to. Javier cares about Kate like a sister, and as much as he's worried about Castle, he can only guess what she's thinking. He guesses that numerous scenarios are making their way through her mind; all horrific in variety.

Esposito's suspicions are confirmed when she says, "What if he dies?"

He glances over at her before returning his attention to the road. She looks exhausted and scared, which she is, because she can still hear the sound of the heart monitor ringing in her ears as he flat lines and she feels like he's going to stop living and she won't be there to yank him back from the precipice.

"You can't focus on every worst-case scenario. The doctors said that the surgery went well and that he'll most likely pull through. Castle's a fighter; he'll pull through. You have to believe that."

She shakes her head, "He got shot in the _chest_, Javi. There's a risk for complications-,"

"That won't happen," he says, only trying to ease her worries, but in reality they both know that complications from the procedure are a possibility. "And if it does, I'll pull out the gumball and get you back to the hospital so that you can kick his ass until he's okay. Right now he's stable and that is what's important."

Beckett takes a deep breath, because behind her stubbornness, she knows that he's right. She plans to drop the conversation and let the car lull with a peaceful silence, but then the image of the tears streaming from his bright blue eyes as his blood stains her hands and the words expel from her mouth before she can deny them.

"I told him that I love him."

Her fellow detective remains oddly silent, so she elaborates, "Right before he closed his eyes-after the bullet hit. That's when I told him."

"Did you mean it?"

She's offended by the question and her response is immediate, "Yes."

Then Esposito smiles, "That's wonderful. Now, not only does he have his daughter and mother to survive for, but he has your words, too."

"Yeah…I suppose he does." She has never thought of it that way before, and it makes the corners of her mouth drift upwards.

The ghost of his smile still on his face, Javier turns to her, looking slightly apprehensive. "What happens when he wakes up, Kate?"

Beckett answers truthfully, "I don't know."

. . .

Ryan hangs up the phone and glances at his notes one last time, wondering idly if he can make them look less inadequate.

"Hey, bro you got anything?" Esposito says, causing Ryan to turn and face him.

"Nothing good. You?"

"About the same."

They both look discreetly at Beckett, who is leaning up against her desk staring at the murder board, which she has been doing for the past three hours. All of them are still in their clothes from this morning.

"We should go update her. It's getting pretty late; we should all go home. We can't do anything more tonight," Esposito sighs.

The two detectives cross the bullpen. "Beckett," Ryan says carefully.

She tilts her head, her eyes red-rimmed from crying and exhaustion. Every time he's talked to her, in that moment before she composes herself, there's this tragic, fragile look in her eyes, like if you touch her she would break like a porcelain doll. But when they approach, something blooms in her gaze; a sheer layer of hope. Its presence is uplifting.

"Anything?"

Ryan drums his fingers on his notebook nervously and then begins. "All of the ground keepers at the cemetery have solid alibis. The area where the shooter could have escaped was clear except for people visiting graves, and all of their stories check out. We think that the sniper left the cemetery from the north entrance, because there are no operating businesses with cameras near that exit."

Any trace of hope in her eyes wilts and vanishes.

Running a hand over her face, she quietly asks, "Espo?"

"None of the funeral attendees noticed anything unusual and no one caught a glimpse of the shooter. Police dogs were brought to the scene. They were able to trail the scent to the edge of the property, but they lost it at the gates."

She clenches her jaw and grits her teeth as the information, or lack of it, settles onto her skin.

"So we basically don't know any more than we did three hours ago?"

Ryan stands tall and averts his eyes in defeat, lacking the right words to say. Esposito takes a step towards her and narrows his voice, "Look, Beckett, there's nothing more we can do now, not until CSU processes the area."

"You know as well as I do that they aren't going to find anything," she says defiantly.

"Maybe, but maybe we'll get a break. Either way, the best way to help Rick is to go home and get some rest."

Even though she wants to, Kate finds that she's too tired to say no.

. . .

When she enters her apartment and locks the door behind her, she immediately longs to be back at the precinct. It's never completely deserted at the twelfth; there's always at least a clerk or two, or a few tired uniforms on the graveyard shift, but here it's just her.

Now that she is home, with nothing to remind her of today's tragedy but a blood-stained uniform, she can't help but wonder if her confession was a good idea. When she said it, she thought he wasn't going to survive. She thought she would never see his handsome face light up as he spun a wild theory or see his eyes darken when her voice got low and her gaze flickered to his lips. She believed that their time had run out. Kate simply _needed_ him to know.

As she tiredly peels off her dirty clothes and changes in yoga pants and a tank top, Beckett cannot stop her heart as is starts to pound, the rhythmic beating throbbing through every cell in her body. A pressure takes residence in her chest as questions fly linger in her mind.

_What really happens when he wakes up?_

_Am I ready for this?_

_Does he even love me back?_

Shaking the insecurities away as best she can, Kate realizes that no matter how much doubt is mounting within her, she finds that she is unable to regret saying it, because in the midst of all of the lies and confusion it's the one thing she knows to be true.

The detective moves to slide into bed, but then she remembers something. Hastily maneuvering to her dresser, she reaches a thin arm back to retrieve an old t-shirt. It's red and far too big for her; meant for no other purpose than sleeping. She 'accidentally' stole it from Castle after staying in his loft after Scott Dunn destroyed her apartment. Lifting it up her face and breathing deeply, her heart flutters and her body relaxes. It still smells like him.

After pulling it over her head, Kate gets under the covers and closes her eyes.

Feeling a little foolish, she lovingly murmurs a few words into the night, "Goodnight, Rick."

. . .

After an hour or so of drifting off to sleep only to be woken by nightmares, Kate realizes that sleep is not really an option and spends the rest of the night trying to picture Castle's arms around her, because her bed suddenly feels far too empty without him.

When her alarm goes off, she is yanked from her light dormancy. Her body feels heavy and when the memories of yesterday come rushing forward, she doesn't even try to stop them from playing behind her eyelids. Forcing herself out of bed, Beckett takes a shower, happy to at least permanently remove the evidence of yesterday from her skin, even though she will never rinse the memory from her mind.

Quickly drying herself off and coercing her chocolate curls into a pony tail, Kate dresses in a blue button down, jeans and heels, barely acknowledging what she's doing. The urge to get to work and find the bastard who shot Castle is overwhelming. As she pulls her coat on and goes to leave, her phone starts to ring. Swiftly pulling it from her pocket, she identifies the caller. The world drifts off for a moment.

"Martha, is-,"

"Kate, get to the hospital as soon as you can. Richard is-,"

Beckett's blood runs cold, the freezing shards of it cutting into her veins, "Is he alright?'

"He's awake."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you to all those you review/follow/favorite! I love you all! There's a not-so-subtle reference to 'After The Storm' in here; I just had to. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing (except all four seasons and all the books). **

**. . . **

As the early morning sunlight streams through the windows of the lobby, a man with a long, square face and a strong jaw steps out of the elevator. The suit he wears is tailored to his tall stature, but it has both loosened and tightened in places with age. He walks over to his mailbox and sets his briefcase on the floor. Clutching the correct key, he opens the lock with ease. Reaching in, he grabs the papers and begins to flip through them, only mildly interested.

Until one name catches his eye.

The man's eyes reveal nothing. He simply picks up his briefcase and heads back upstairs, the tasks of the day forgotten.

. . .

After she weaves her way through the hospital's many corridors, hunting for his room, she _finally _finds it. She walks towards the door. Her stride is strong and the happiness spills out of her chest and into her lungs; every breath she exhales is laced with it.

Kate opens the door, not really knowing what to expect, but-

She didn't expect this.

He isn't there.

She's positive that this is the right room. Why is the bed gone? Why isn't he here?

_Is he dead?_

Her heart starts pounding and she grips the door handle to stop her hand from shaking, but then her knees can't hold her up and she has to lean herself against the door. Her heart is drowning, sinking, but it is beating so hard that it hurts and _oh, oh God, not now, please…I love you. _

Even as her vision starts to blur from tears threatening to escape, she sees a figure coming towards her and feels a warm hand touch her cheek.

"Kate, he's fine. The doctors took him to do some tests; he'll be back soon. He's okay." Martha's voice captures her and drags her back from the dark place she was heading.

Kate looks into the older woman's concerned face and nods, suddenly feeling foolish for jumping to the worst possible conclusion, but after all that's happened to her, all that's happened to them, it's become a habit. Beckett stands up straight and slowly releases the doorknob from her grasp.

"He's awake?" She asks.

"Yes," Martha replies happily, "I called you a few minutes after he woke up. He was confused and in a lot of pain, but they gave him some medication. The nurse said that they would have to sedate him for some of the tests, but that he would wake up again shortly after he comes back. He should be back soon, darling."

Kate bites her lip, "Did he seem…like himself?"

Martha rolls her eyes and chuckles, "Of course. He was making jokes about how cool the scar would look within minutes of his eyes opening."

Beckett smiles, some of the worry in her eyes melting. "Sounds like Castle."

Martha motions to the chairs in the white-walled hospital room, "Come in and sit down. We can wait together."

A few minutes after the women sit down, Kate notices another absence, "Where's Alexis?"

"She went home a few hours ago to get some books and clothes and some other things Richard might want when he wakes up."

After about fifteen minutes of silences woven with bursts of conversation, she hears the door open.

And then he's back.

. . .

_I love you, Rick. I love you, okay? You need to stay with me so that I can love you._

Was it just a dream?

It didn't feel like it was a dream when it happened, but then again, he did have a bullet tearing through him. It doesn't feel like a dream now, though. How is he supposed to know? The scene has been replaying in his head, over and over, but vaguely so, like the rhythm of a song that he can't remember the lyrics to, but then the memory gets stronger and stronger before it reverts back to a faint whisper.

When he opens his eyes, Castle is confused and in pain. There's an unrelenting, crushing pain that's chasing him. He can't even move without feeling the pull of the sutures and flesh. The last thing he remembers, or that he _thinks_ her remembers is the sound of Kate's voice telling him words that he thought he might never hear. His mother and daughter are there to crush the confusion, but no one is here to tell him what he heard was real. The question eating away at him and although he wants to stop thinking about it; he just can't.

Even though he can tell she promised herself that she wouldn't, Alexis begins to cry. She leans over and he embraces her as best he can when his arms feel like cement. He can see his mother out of the corner of his eyes, her bright blue eyes watery, but still full of light. She just smiles, takes his hand and winks at him.

Castle gets some pain medication and it makes him feel better within minutes; his body is no longer tearing apart, now it's just ripping slowly. He talks to his family for a few minutes, joking about how badass his scar will be, even though the acute pain is radiating through him. Then his mother's eyes grow wide and she says, "Oh, dear, I forgot…"

She trails off and fumbles through her large, bedazzled handbag, pulling out her phone moments later.

"What did you forget about?" Alexis asks.

"I promised Kate that I would call her when your father woke up," Martha says, distracted.

Castle stops breathing for a moment, but soon enough his chest begins to ache. He takes a deep breath, which hurts even more, but he forces the question through the pain.

"Was Beckett here?"

Martha rises from her chair and moves toward the door, intending to make the phone call a private one. "Of course she was here, darling. Her, Ryan, Esposito, Lanie and Jim Beckett were here for hours until you got out of surgery. The doctors made them leave, but if they hadn't I can assure you that Kate would still be here."

As his mother exits the room, Rick's face softens.

Maybe it isn't a dream.

Shortly after his mother returns from calling Beckett, Dr. Kovacks comes into his room with a hoard of nurses, dryly informing him that they have some exams to do, just to ensure that his heart is fully functioning and that the surgery was successful. The writer in him is racing a mile a minute, painting a picture of every possible thing that could go wrong, and everything that could go right.

They move him to another room and after poking him with needles and fiddling with all the machines he has hooked up to him, the medical team informs him that they will have to sedate him for one of the tests. He knows that it's for his own health, but even as a nurse inserts the sedative into his IV, his heart flutters as the nerves tighten in his abdomen.

As his eyelids begin to feel heavy, he hears someone say, "The medication will wear off within the hour, Mr. Castle. You will be awake again before you know it…"

_Kate will be here when I wake up,_ he thinks hopefully as the darkness wraps around him.

. . .

He definitely looks like he just got shot. He's much paler than usual and his hair is disheveled. Despite all of that though, the thing that catches her off guard is the lack of boyish grin igniting his eyes.

Once the doctors have him settled, they file out of the room until it's just Martha, Beckett and him. To be honest, his is the only presence she really feels, because now that she thought she would never feel it again, it's all-encompassing.

The chiming of Martha's phone joins the beeps of his heart monitor. The actress glances at the screen and then looks up apologetically.

"Alexis just got here and she can't remember how to find the room. I'll go and help her. I won't be gone long," Martha explains, her eyes flickering over her son's sleeping form before she leaves.

Then it's just the two of them.

Beckett isn't sure what to do at first; so she settles for what she wants to do. She drags a chair next to his bed and sits down. Careful not to jostle any wires, she leans her forearm on the bed and entwines their hands together, running the pad of her thumb softly over the back of his hand. Kate's green eyes rake over his face until she has the image scorched into her mind, then she closes her eyes and allows the steady, reliable noises ensuring her that his heart is warm and alive lull her into a sense of peace. Even though he's pale, his body still emits a comforting heat that she's never appreciated until now. She lowers her head next to their hands, her body weighed down with fatigue.

"Kate?" An unwelcome voice inquires. Her eyes snap open and she raises her head. Josh is standing gingerly in the doorway, his affronted gaze trying to absorb the scene in front of him.

She wants him to leave and let her be with Rick for a few minutes before he wakes up and everything becomes fantastically, frighteningly complicated.

"Hey, Josh," she says, trying not to sound like he's the last person she wants to see.

"May I come in?"

Beckett straightens her back and lets go of Castle's hand, crossing her arms across her chest. "Sure."

He moves to stand next to her, the tension palpable and undesirable.

The dark-haired doctor shuffles his feet, "Look, Kate…did you mean what you said yesterday?"

_Oh…right._

Their relationship shouldn't have ended that way, but it had to happen. She doesn't regret it.

She sighs and blinks slowly, "Yes."

Josh averts his gaze for a minute and looks at anything but her. "How is he doing?"

The sentiment is nice, but she knows he doesn't mean it. "He's pulling through," she looks over at the writer and smiles, "he's a fighter."

"Do you know what happened?"

_Well, that's a good question, isn't it?_

Beckett removes herself from the conversation for a moment. She can still see the glint off of the sniper so clearly. She remembers how it's aimed at Castle; how he didn't see it, how no one saw it. Then the shot pierced through the air, the sound of it so vivid. Then the bullet sliced through him. That's what happened.

Or is it?

Her pupils dilate in fear and guilt, because what if the bullet was meant for _her_? What is it was her that was supposed to be laying there in pain right now? Now that she thinks about it, why would the people behind her mother's murder shoot Castle? Why would they shoot anyone? If Montgomery sacrificed himself to save her, why were they still coming? The questions keep forming and she simply doesn't have the answers.

This is all her fault.

If she hadn't been chasing these people, these ghosts, then he would have been able to avoid all of this unnecessary pain. They _all _could have. _Oh, God_, he could have died and his blood would have been on her hands. He could still die. Guilt rams into her chest and squeezes her heart, nausea surges in her stomach and her lungs clog with the regret.

Josh's voice rips through her thoughts, "Kate, do you know what happened?"

"No," she replies, her voice small and shaky.

"Dr. Kovacks told me that the surgery went as well as expected." Josh moves even closer to her and lays a hand on her shoulder. "How are you holding up?"

The sound of someone clearing their throat followed by the hushed call of her name makes her forget her response.

. . .

He can hear voices. As he drifts into consciousness, they push their way past the fog looming over him. It's not his mother or his daughter. It sounds like Kate.

He needs to see her; the choking desire to see her is overwhelming. He fights his way out of sleep, his eyes opening and searching for her.

His cracked heart sinks at what he sees.

Josh's hand is caressing her shoulder and she is looking up at him in what he expects is an adoring fashion.

_It must have been a dream. _

But, _seriously, _he just got shot in the chest. Josh can come back later.

"Kate," he calls, his voice ragged and his throat dry.

She's out of her seat and next to him in a heartbeat, Josh suddenly gone, her green eyes dancing over him frantically, like she can't believe he's really awake.

"Oh, Castle," she breathes, reaching out a hand and trails a scorching path across his cheek and forehead before smoothing back his hair. She smiles, bright and beautiful, in a way that he wants to wake up and go to sleep to everyday for the rest of his life. Her smile is contagious and he grins back at her. Kate's heart skips a beat when his blue eyes light up for her.

"You're alive," she says, mostly trying to remind herself of what's true. He can't help but gasp when she takes his hand in both of hers, because even if it's just for a moment, it may as well be forever.

"I am," he replies. Castle takes a chance and reaches out to brush a piece of chocolate hair behind her ear. He's surprised when she lets her eyes fall closed and leans into his touch.

She becomes quiet then, and the urge to extinguish his confusion flares up. Even if it was a dream, he can blame it on the drugs later, but he has to know.

"Kate…did you say anything to me before I blacked out?"

Beckett's eyes fill with nervousness and anticipation. "Yes. I told you that I love you."

"So it wasn't a dream?"

"No…you definitely weren't dreaming."

The way she admits it shocks him, the way the corners of her mouth curl upward; the way her voice doesn't shake when she says it. _Oh, how he loves her._

Castle takes a deep breath, his blue eyes shimmering with joy, the strength of his smile starting to hurt his cheeks.

"I love you, too, Kate."

There is a moment where they just look at each other, and he's never seen such happiness on her face.

Then his eyes roll back in his head and his body tenses up.

"Castle?!" Kate yells, screaming for help. His heartbeat that was steady moment ago is now weaving in uneven jagged lines that threaten to tear her apart.

Hospital staff floods into the room and surround her, Martha and Alexis trailing in frantically behind them.

"Daddy!" Alexis screams, her grandmother clutching her arm so that she lets the doctors do their job.

A young male doctor turns to Kate, whose eyes are darting between Castle and the doctors, waiting for an explanation or a solution.

"It looks like an infection has formed where the bullet grazed Mr. Castle's lung. We will have to put him in a medically induced coma for a few days; the body should heal itself," he relays rapidly.

"Is he-?"

"Ma'am you have to get out of our way and let us take care of him."

In the few seconds before she moves away, she leans down so that her mouth is right next to his ear.

"I'll be right here when you wake up, Rick."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Sorry that it took so long to update! It was the week before vacation at school; you know the week that every teacher thinks it's a good idea to give a test? I'll try to be better at updating. Please review (It shall be your Christmas present to me). Everyone have a merry Christmas! **

**. . . **

"What happens now?" says Martha. The spark in her eyes has flickered out, leaving space for only exhaustion.

"Usually, when a patient gets an infection like this, we place them in a coma and they wake up a few days later and they're back to normal. But since Mr. Castle's body has been through so many traumas in the last few days, the outcome of this situation is much more uncertain."

Alexis' voice is hoarse from crying when she asks, "Is he going to be okay?"

"Since Mr. Castle is healthy, we think that there is a good chance that he'll make a full recovery."'

"What does 'a good chance' mean?" Beckett asks; a hard edge visible in her eyes and tangible in her words.

"Well-,"

"I want a percentage."

The doctor opens his mouth, the glances down at the chart in his hands, his eyes narrowing at her. "Are you even a relative of the patient's? Visiting hours are over. You can't be here."

Beckett stares him down as she pulls out her badge. "I'm NYPD. Answer the damn question."

The doctor exhales sharply, "There's a sixty percent chance that he'll even wake up."

Kate nods, lowering her gaze to the ground. Those aren't the best odds, but they're not the worst, either. She can hear Martha asking the doctor more questions, but as much as she tries to concentrate, she finds that she can only think about the numbers. There's a forty percent chance that she'll never see his face light up as he concocts a story again, and that they'll never kiss _for real._

Beckett can feel her heart start to pound against her chest, like it wants to escape the pain of the last week, of the last twelve years really. It feels like she's not going to be able to control it, like every negative thought floating through her mind is going to come surging up her throat, but she knows that you cannot get rid of the evil so easily.

Then his words pierce through the dark-

_I love you, too, Kate. _

It calms her, but only for a moment, because she can picture the joy on his face being washed away as his eyes roll back and his body seizes. Beckett squeezes her eyes shut and forces the memories away for now. She looks up to see the doctor walking away. Martha turns and embraces Alexis, then turns to Kate and almost smiles.

"Kate, darling, I would never survive in an interrogation room with you."

. . .

The three women return to Castle's room and Kate stops when she sees him, staring at him with wide, scared eyes. His attached to twice as many machines as before. He has a tube in his throat to help him breathe and there are so many monitors around him that she hasn't seen nearly enough medical shows to know what all of them are. Without missing a beat Alexis and Martha move to his bedside, not questioning their place in this room.

Where does she belong?

She feels like she shouldn't be here. He got shot because she was chasing after her mom's killer. There would be no reason for him to even be putting himself in these life or death situations if it weren't for her. There should never be a doubt in his family's mind that he won't come home one day. She wants to be here with him, but if she should be anywhere right now, it's at the precinct helping to catch the gunman.

She takes a step forward, "Do either of you need anything?"

Alexis looks at her quizzically, "You're not going to stay?"

"No," she says weakly, because she doesn't want to go anywhere, she just wants him. "I have to go to the precinct and help Ryan and Esposito look for the shooter."

Martha thinks for a second and then shrugs, "No, I think we're alright."

Beckett nods and as much as she tries to swallow the urge, she moves over to Castle's bed. Carefully, as to not disturb any of the wires around him, she brushes he hand through his hair. Her hand comes to rest at his cheek as her fingers stroke over his skin. She leans down and places a soft kiss to his cheek, resting there for a beat longer than she intended. Reluctantly, Kate pulls back. After murmuring a quick goodbye, she is about to leave when Martha stops her and wraps her arms around her shoulders. Even though she tells herself she shouldn't take comfort in Martha's hug when she's the reason her son could die, but her arms betray her and return the sentiment.

The older woman releases her grip on the detective, and then says, "You can come back any time."

. . .

The chair beside her desk burns a hole in her chest as she files through all of the reports that Ryan gave to her when she got off the elevator. As proud as she is that Ryan and Esposito have basically been at the precinct since Castle was shot working as hard as they can to solve the case, she can't help but be discouraged because all of these reports are telling her that they're still at square one. CSU found the place where the sniper shot from, but the shooter left no evidence behind. All of the cemetery staff was accounted for at the time of the shooting, and even if they weren't, none of them have any serious financial troubles. Beckett closes the file and turns her chair to gaze at the murder board, her eyes immediately focusing on Castle's picture where it hangs next to the little information they have on the shooter.

She bites her lip and tries to read over all of the information they had before Montgomery's death, but she can feel the sympathetic stares of everyone in the bullpen trained on her back. As much as she wants to turn around and glare at them until they either scatter or offer their awkward but empathetic condolences. Straightening her back, she ignores them and focuses back on the questions listed under Castle's smiling picture on the murder board.

_Why was Castle shot?_

They know why Castle was shot; the sniper was aiming for her and he got in the way, as usual. But why had they wanted to shoot her in the first place? Montgomery sacrificed himself so that this could be over. So why are they still coming after her?

Next question: _Who hired the shooter?_

This is a harder question to answer. For twelve years she has been searching for the answer to this question, because the man who hired the sniper of most definitely connected to or is the man who ordered the hit on her mother. Maybe if they do a bit more digging, they could make a step closer to answering it, but only a step.

The last questions stares back at her, mocking her and daring her to answer it.

_Who is the sniper?_

They have absolutely no idea who the shooter is and maybe that's why she wants to know so badly, because they have _no evidence. _No clear direction, just an arrow on a broken compass spinning around and around, making everyone dizzy. Then again, it may just be the fact that this is the person who shot Castle. Whoever they are, they're the person who shot the man she loves and she wants to _strangle_ them, lock them up and put a bullet through their heart to see how they like it. She knows that some mysteries aren't meant to be solved, but this isn't one of them.

Her thoughts are interrupted by Ryan clearing his throat. He stands next to Esposito with his hands in his pockets, and then elbows his partner in the side. Esposito narrows his eyes at the Irishman before turning his attention to Beckett.

"Anything?" She asks, a stubborn glimmer of hope that refuses to be trampled resonating in her voice.

Esposito's fingers drum on the file in his hand. "We have good news and bad news. There was a homeless man who saw a six-foot, white male leaving the cemetery immediately after the time of Castle's shooting."

"What's the bad news?"

"The homeless man has a history of mental disorders and hallucinations."

Beckett sighs and rubs her hands over her face. Ryan looks at her worriedly, "Beckett-,"

"I need some coffee," she says softly, not looking at either of them, and then she stands and heads for the break room. When she enters the room, however, she glares at the coffee machine and almost screams, because she's barely ever had to make coffee since Castle started shadowing her and she has no idea what to do anymore. The loneliness and helplessness envelop her and she can't help but wish that he was here with her, not just now, but all the time.

"Need some help?"

She turns to see Esposito shutting the door to the break room, looking at her delicately. She would slap that look off of his face if it wasn't exactly how she feels right now. She doesn't have to answer his question, he just moves over to the coffee machine and expertly flips switches and presses buttons.

After a comfortable pause, she says, "Thank you…for working so hard to help find the shooter."

He raises his eyebrows at her. "Are you kidding? Castle's a part of the team. He's my partner, too."

Beckett just smiles at him, but his expression grows more serious. "How are you holding up?" He asks, handing her a cup of fresh coffee.

"I just want him to be okay," she says. She takes a sip from the mug. The coffee doesn't taste like Castle's, but it's still good.

He just nods and pours himself a cup of the hot liquid, and suddenly she becomes aware of just how long he's been working. His eyes are dark and drained of everything but pure exhaustion.

"Why don't you and Ryan head home? You guys deserve it. We'll start fresh in the morning."

"Yeah, it's getting pretty late," Esposito replies, pouring the remaining contents of his mug down the sink. "Are you going to head home?"

"Soon, I just have to put some files away," she says as he heads for the door.

"Alright, sleep well, Beckett."

Too quietly for him to hear, she mumbles, "I'll try."

. . .

All she wants to do is collapse into bed and fall into a wonderfully deep sleep, but in reality the likelihood of that happening virtually nonexistent. Stepping off of the elevator, the sound of her high heels echo loudly in the silent hallway as she walks to the door of her apartment. Slipping her key into the lock, she pushes the door open, her mind on auto-pilot as her hand moves to turn the lights on, but before she can do it, someone else does it for her.

Her gun is out of her holster in a second, trained on the woman standing in her living room.

"Detective Beckett, it's been too long."

"Special Agent Shaw?" Beckett rasps, her jaw clenched as the adrenaline pumps through her. "What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

"I got a call concerning Mr. Castle's shooting," the FBI agent says, sitting down on the armrest of one of Kate's chairs like she does it every day.

"What does Castle's shooting have anything to do with you?" Beckett asks incredulously, lowering her gun to her side.

"My friend and I have devised a plan to keep you and Mr. Castle safe while also finding out the identity of the man who is behind your mother's death."

"How are you…wait, what friend?" Beckett says, tightening her hold on her gun as her body stiffens.

A man comes around the corner then, and if she didn't trust Jordan, she would have shot him in the shoulder by now. "Who is this?"

"You can call me Smith," the man says. He has silvery-white hair and a hardened face from what she assumes is years of dealing with high stress situations.

Beckett glances between the two people in her living room, still only half believing that this is happening.

Smith speaks again, "I'm a friend of Roy Montgomery's. Right before he died he sent me information regarding your mother's case. He has been using that information as leverage in order to keep you, your loved ones and his family safe."

Beckett laughs humorlessly, "Castle is lying in a hospital room because they were trying to kill me. I don't think that deal is working."

"Smith didn't receive the files until after the shooting," Shaw explains, "and they were trying to kill Castle."

"What?" Beckett says, her voice shaking. "I thought…"

"The sniper was going to kill you, but he was ordered at the last minute to shoot Castle," Smith elaborates."

"So you know who shot him?"

"Not yet," Shaw says, standing up and walking over to the detective, "if we're lucky, we'll find out soon. But that's not important right now. Right now we need you to come with us."


End file.
